SF is About to Explode

As the Giants stand poised to win the North American Series, baseball fans (a.k.a -- people with too much ADD to enjoy golf) are on the edge of their seats dressed in their Halloween colors and chanting things about "beards" and "freaks."  They aren't chanting about circuses or something homosexual, however.  This is the San Francisco Giants about to lay waste to the Texas Rangers.  And like most things, it is overshadowing the election, but ... it also serves as symbolic of what is going on in this country.

San Francisco.  Liberal.  Progressive. 

Texas.  Conservative.  Roll back.

If a game were to be decided by goodwill alone, the Giants would have it.  I lived near Philly when the Phillies went to the World Series many moons ago.  Philly has nothing on what is going on throughout Northern California.  You would think each individual Giants fan thinks he or she is solely responsible for the team getting as far as it did.  It's called pride, and if all these people were as hyped about the fucking election, it would send shivers of terror down the spines of politicians of all ilks.  Instead, the country can rest secure in the fact that most people take baseball far more seriously than something that can actually effect their lives.  Kind of like finding out you have some near-terminal disease, but instead focusing on what a great haircut you got.

The Texas Rangers only really have fans in Texas.  It makes sense.  After decades of telling the rest of the country not to mess with it, Texas isolated itself from the rest of the modern world.  It's symbolic Great Wall of Texas ensuring that it has fallen behind the rest of the country when it comes to things like civil rights, the death penalty, homosexuality and standards.  The average Texan is a beef-eater, wife beater and proud of it, Sir.  The average Californian loves sushi and isn't "skeeved out" by the site of men holding hands.

Frankly, I like my beef and sushi, but I'm not willing to go as far as Texans and declare ignorance my religion.

The Bush Boys showed up at the last game.  It was Halloween, and one couldn't tell if the Bushes were in costume or not.  I can only imagine that for them, watching their sacred Rangers sink deeper into defeat was a lot like watching Baby Bush's final years in the White House.  Father Bush, ever the ball-busting dick, turned to his son in the eighth inning and asked, "Seem familiar, son?"

Baby Bush could only answer with that Alfred E. Newman grin.  "What?  Me think?"

Enjoy the game, Baby.  Enjoy the game.

There is potentially one more game to go.  If SF wins, I imagine there will be a small percentage of men who ejaculate into their Lee's on the spot, and more than one woman will long for her husband to grow his hair.  Permasmiles will last only until they realize that winning really changed nothing.  It's not like it is a true World Series.  It's not like the SF city government will topple if the Giants fail to "bring it home."  In a month or less it will be like nothing happened.  At least until the distraction of the Super Bowl creeps in, with its promise of new advertising and Bud girls performing fellatio on condensation-dripping bottles.

I have nothing against baseball, really.  I'm not a Giants fan, and while I don't hate the team the way I do the Phillies, I do enjoy giving the SF team's fans a good ribbing now and then.  Quite frankly, the people I know who care about such things are proud of the team they love, and civilized about it.

It doesn't change the fact that an election is just a day away, and I can say I haven't heard but on Giants fan talk about it in any meaningful way.  Not to say they haven't -- I just haven't heard it.

Is that scary, or understandable since the Giants are about to enter the history books?  I guess it all depends on how you feel about baseball and life in general.  In the end, though, baseball is a game.  Nothing more or nothing less.  The financial fortunes won are not claimed by the fans (though the losses could be).  All those eager beavers get is a sense of pride and the right to say, "We did it."

You sure did.

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